


Teenage Dream

by SKJC



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Kind of light internet stalking I guess, M/M, Masturbation, Pre-Canon, Social Media
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-14
Updated: 2017-08-14
Packaged: 2018-12-15 03:51:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11797797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SKJC/pseuds/SKJC
Summary: In the years between Otabek's first encounter with Yuri and becoming his friend, he keeps up with Yuri's life via social media. Sometimes his baser instincts get the better of him.





	Teenage Dream

**Author's Note:**

> Mind the warning, folks, I don't use 'underage' for very many things!

Otabek sighed deeply as he shut the door of his bedroom behind him. It had been a long day, and things had been rough from start to finish, and it frustrated the hell out of him that he couldn’t seem to work hard enough to get as good as he wanted, _needed_ to be. 

He clicked the lock on the door before stripping off the track pants and t-shirt he’d worn home from the rink, having showered in the locker room to be presentable for dinner, and slipped into the sweatpants he usually slept in. Even though it was fairly late and he knew he should just brush his teeth and go to bed, he sat down at the little desk in the corner of the room and opened up his laptop. 

In his email, the first thing was one of his mother’s essay-length messages from home. She kept him updated on pretty much everything while he was away, which sometimes lifted his spirits and sometimes had the opposite effect. Today was definitely the latter, so he decided to save that to read tomorrow. The only other thing that wasn’t junk was a reminder that he had an assignment due soon for his online homeschool course, and that wasn’t anything he felt like dealing with either, despite the necessity of it. Even though he wasn't even going to be sixteen until later in the year, he was already aware of the fact that figure skating was not a life-long career and he’d probably need an education to do pretty much anything else.

After abandoning the email and then several more minutes of pointless web surfing, Otabek found himself looking at Yuri Plisetsky’s Instagram profile. He didn’t really use social media much himself, but he did have to admit it had its uses, such as somewhat creepily watching his adolescent crush from a distance. Between Yuri’s own posts and those of his older Russian rinkmates, it wasn’t especially difficult.

There were several new photos that had been posted since the last time he’d checked. Most of them weren’t that interesting - food and scenery - but there were a few funny ones of Yuri’s cat that he cracked a smile at. He stopped scrolling to linger on a selfie shot of Yuri laying on his bed with the cat curled up on his chest. It was ridiculously cute, and he gazed wistfully at the screen for a moment before closing that tab altogether.  

He knew perfectly well that the crush he’d been harboring for the last two years was incredibly stupid. Chances were that Yuri either had no idea he even existed, or couldn’t care less. Never mind the little detail that Yuri was younger than he was, just now barely old enough to even compete in juniors, which made him feel like even more of a creeper every time he went social media stalking like this. 

Even so, that didn’t stop Otabek from navigating to Yuri’s Twitter page next. Reading that was always fun because of the combination of random observations and mini-rants posted at all hours of the day and night that seemed incredibly random. Near the top of the feed, there was a short video clip posted less than a day ago, so of course he had to click on that. He watched, equal parts awe and envy flooding through him, as the beautiful blond boy practically floated across the ice. He was practicing a step sequence that looked more complex than anything in Otabek’s current repertoire, and he exhibited an air of ethereal beauty even dressed in his drab black workout clothes. On subsequent replays of the video, Otabek noticed more little details, such as the way the light caught in the loose strands of Yuri’s hair and the graceful way he held his arms, which somehow looked so natural.

Otabek’s cock twitched in his sweatpants at those observations, and he shifted in his chair and shoved the heel of one hand down against it, mentally cursing teenage hormones. His admiration for Yuri wasn’t _like that_ , or so he told himself, but his brain and body seemed to disagree on that point more and more as time went on, and it probably didn’t help that he’d lacked the time and energy to even jerk off in the shower for the past couple of days. There were a couple more short videos on the page that Otabek also watched, and none of them made the situation in his pants any less uncomfortable. The way Yuri’s lithe, compact body moved on the ice was utterly enthralling.

A little further down the page was a link to a Youtube video, and when he clicked on that, it looked like it was long enough to be a run-through of a full free skate program. Sure enough, that was exactly what it was, and within the first two minutes, Otabek was sure that Yuri would start off his career in juniors by winning the major competitions. The routine in the video was everything the short clips had been and more, and by the end of it, his erection was definitely not planning on going away on its own. 

After a sideways glance at the locked door, he heaved a sigh and pushed his sweatpants down just far enough to wrap one hand around his cock. Already knowing he would probably regret it later, he clicked the replay button on the video. His first few strokes were too rough with too much friction, and he spit into his hand to ease that problem before continuing, since at that point there was no way he was going to get up to look for a bottle of lotion or anything. It wasn’t like this was going to take long, after all. The fluid that quickly began to bead at the tip of his cock helped lubricate his motions a bit more and he began to twist his hand around the head on each upstroke, panting slightly at the little sparks of pleasure that set off. The arch of Yuri’s back and the curve of his neck as he executed a Biellmann spin towards the end of the routine was what finally pushed Otabek over the edge, and he had to bite his lip to stifle a little grown as he came all over his hand and stomach.

He leaned heavily back into his chair as the video ended, feeling sticky and gross and thoroughly embarrassed that he’d just gotten himself off to a four minute video of a skating routine. He wallowed in those thoughts for a minute while his heart rate returned to normal, pushed his laptop shut with his clean hand, and surveyed the mess in his lap. The waistband of his sweatpants was messy enough that he just removed them, used the fabric to wipe his hand and stomach, and then threw them into the hamper. He did his own laundry, so there was no chance that anyone else would notice the mess. 

Once he had turned the lights out and finally laid down in hopes of getting some sleep, Otabek considered the idea that maybe eventually, he could get up the nerve to actually talk to the object of his creepy, weird crush. He didn’t believe in soulmates or love at first sight or any of that, but he’d firmly believed since that training camp that he’d encountered Yuri then for a reason, and he hoped some day that they could at least become friends… And maybe somewhere even further down the line, much further, he dared to let himself think that could possibly turn into something more.

**Author's Note:**

> Shoutout to all the Tumblr antis whose tears and rage inspired this fic! I couldn't have done it without you. :)
> 
> Also thanks to Phayte for giving me the title on Discord, as well as all the folks who helped me figure out how the hell to tag this!


End file.
